


A Shipper's Mother's Day

by WanderingSummerBreeze



Category: Outlander (TV) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-31 22:49:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10909059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingSummerBreeze/pseuds/WanderingSummerBreeze
Summary: Short bit of fluffy smut, for all the believers that are still out there





	A Shipper's Mother's Day

Just as the dream-world was whispering my name in soft feathers across my eyelids, I heard the click of the door. My eyes tightened and I curled my fingers into the duvet, before turning my head to the bedroom door.

His heavy frame collapsed against the door, the crows-feet around his eyes more pronounced in the soft glow of the bedside lamp.

He sighed. “She’s finally asleep.”

A contentment washed over me as I pulled the sheets back, beckoning him to climb in.

He pushed himself off the door, shedding the last of his clothes along the way; like bread crumbs, strewn across the floor, they led their way to me.

He stood, arms at his side, beside the bed. My hand reached out, instinctively, taking hold of his, as a smile crept across his face. He held onto me tightly, his knee coming to rest on the mattress and he leaned forward, kissing my lips. I shivered at his cool touch, the comfort and warmth of the bed calling me back.

Sam climbed in the rest of the way, his head resting against my chest. I shifted uncomfortably, with my breasts still so heavy, even after a recent feeding. He settled himself in, his fingers tracing Monet’s _Starry Night_ across my skin.

“Happy first Mother’s Day, love.”

My quiet laugh cascaded across his hair, the strands of hair parting like the red sea in its wake.

“Thank you for putting her back to bed.” I ran my fingers through his hair, “I was exhausted.”

“Was?”

I couldn’t see his face, but I would have bet my life on his eyebrow raising high into his hairline and a smirk crossing his features.

“Yes. Was.”

Sam shifted, his head resting, low, on the pillow beside me. His hand cupped my breast, full and ready, through the soft linen. He tugged on the hem, pulling it down so that it ran below my swelled bosom. He ran his fingers along the nipples, they perked at his attentions; not readying themselves for our child to feed, but for my husband to admire.

Sam’s lips closed around a crimson nub, gently suckling and caring for my tired nipples. My hand came to rest upon his forehead, not pushing or holding him there, I don’t think there was any place he’d rather be; but just to connect us further. To make the pleasure tremble through my bones and seep out of my fingertips and into his mind.

Sam maneuvered, his body laying against mine, while one hand steadied him so that I didn’t bear the brunt of his full weight. He abandoned one breast for the other, paying it the same loving attention. I could feel him hard against my thigh, his penis weeping across my flesh as he bundled up my nightgown, gathering it around my waist.

I could feel my thighs tighten around his, my body moving in a natural motion, as if he were already inside me.

He drank from me as I had so often drunk from him. His large cock, filling my mouth, coating my throat in his seed.

“Sam,” his name spilled from my lips as I worked my hands in between us, the sheets giving way to my forcible excursion. I felt him, hard, in my hand. I stroked him, firm and steady.

Sam pulled his lips from my breasts, a near painful sound, rising from his throat. His hand met mine, beneath the sheets, and we guided him inside me. Together.

He pushed in strong and he pushed in fully, my body rising to meet his, eager to keep our connection. We kissed, our tongues dueling and fighting and then making up, inside each other’s mouth. As his pumping thighs picked up the pace, his lips fell back to my breasts, and with a small nip to the sensitive skin, I came hard against him. His orgasm followed quickly thereafter, my insides milking him for every last drop.

We lay in sweaty slumber, the light from the lamp displaying the efforts of our lovemaking.

Sam rolled onto his back, welcoming the cool air after our heated exchange. I pulled my nightie over my breasts, effectively securing them for the night. Or so I thought, as I looked to my side and watched a devious look spread across Sam’s face.

I slapped his side, “Enough. They’ll need to nurture your daughter in a few hours.”

“Hmm. Not sure how I feel about waiting in a line-up.”

“A few more months, and they’ll be back to being solely yours.”

He laughed.

I reached over, shutting out the light, and as I finally let the day settle in my mind, I knew I was meant to be nowhere but here.

 

 

 

 


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